


sin & salvation

by poiisons



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Chubby Dean, Coming Untouched, Egregious Use of Ice Cream, Face-Sitting, Facials, Feeding Kink, Food-centric, M/M, Pie, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Stuffing!kink, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-29
Updated: 2014-12-29
Packaged: 2018-03-04 03:24:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2907524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poiisons/pseuds/poiisons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean eats like he's sinning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sin & salvation

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you like it, cho! this isn't the fic i was originally going to write you, but the flu had other plans for me. porn comes easier to me than plot, so here's your gift: 1.5k of pure, unadulterated food-centric bottom!dean wincest filth. sorry it isn't longer/better!  
> thanks to emmett for beta'ing this hot mess on such short notice!

Dean eats like he’s _sinning_.

Eyes flutter shut, dark lashes fanning against freckled cheeks; full, spit-slick lips parting around a throaty moan, and who other than his big brother could make Sam chub up in his jeans in the middle of an all-American diner with a few gravelly words?

_“Apple pie, sweetheart. Box up the whole thing for me.”_

Dean wipes at an errant streak of ice cream with his thumb, sucking it into his mouth and fluttering his eyelashes up at Sam coyly.

“Cut it out,” Sam hisses, denim stretching tighter over his dick. “Finish your pie.”

Dean spoons another bite of pie into his mouth, letting loose a borderline-pornographic moan. It totally isn’t disgusting when he says, with his mouth full, “Good things come to those who wait, Sammy.”

And isn’t that just the kicker? Dean always starts this game totally in control, making eye contact with Sam while he orders a pie to-go, winking at the waitress like he’s daring him to do something, say something—but he knows that by the end of the night he’ll have Dean begging on his knees.

Dean stretches his legs out under the rickety motel table, feet squirming their way into Sam’s lap. Sock-clad toes knead insistently at the hardening line of his dick. The pressure is more of a tease than a relief, and Sam helplessly clutches at Dean’s feet, socks damp from a day spent in boots.

“Bet you can’t wait to get your mouth on me,” Dean says casually, like they’re talking about the weather or something else a lot more mundane than rimming your brother.

“You’re eating too slow,” Sam says, taking the spoon from Dean and scooping up a heaping bite of pie and ice cream. “Open up.”

Dean doesn’t miss a beat, opening his mouth obediently when the spoon taps at his lips. It leaves a sticky glaze shining on his lower lip that Sam desperately wants to lick off.

“C’mere,” Sam says. His dick gives an interested twitch at the way Dean’s shirt rides up when he stands, offering a glimpse of plush, pale skin.

Sam grabs his wrist, tugging insistently until Dean is straddling his lap. The slight softness of Dean’s tummy—as much as he hates it when Sam calls it that—heaves against Sam’s flatter stomach, already breathing heavy.

“Grabby bastard, aren’t ya?” Dean huffs, the tips of his ears coloring.

“Love when you blush all pretty for me,” Sam says quietly, dragging a thumb across Dean’s flushed cheeks. He presses it against Dean’s mouth, testing the give of his lips. “Are you still hungry?”

Sam knows that there’s no way that Dean could _actually_ still be hungry—he had eaten plenty at the diner and had already eaten one slice of pie since they got back. But when they do this, Dean loves to be stuffed to the brim, full of pie and Sammy.

Dean nods, parting his lips for another bite. He lets his eyes slip shut while he chews.

“Not sure if I’m gonna have room for your dick after this,” Dean says, opening his mouth for another bite.

“Hush,” Sam says. He dutifully feeds him another bite. The ice cream is beginning to melt around the slice of apple pie, glistening wet under the dim motel lamp. Sam swipes a finger through the milky pool of ice cream and brings it to Dean’s lips.

Dean takes Sam’s finger without complaint, flicking his tongue over the tip. He sucks at it with vigor, and Sam begins wonder if his fingers and dick are connected somehow.

“You’ll take anything in your mouth, won’t you?” Sam growls, pushing a second finger into Dean’s mouth. “Food, fingers, dick? It doesn’t even matter to you.”

Dean nods, working his fingers in his mouth like they’re Sam’s dick—and they might as well be for the way it’s responding to the attention. Sam rocks his hips up, pressing his dick against the soft give of Dean’s ass.

Dean moans and pushes against Sam’s dick, pulling off of his fingers. A string of saliva glistens from his lips for a moment.

“I wanna suck you,” he says. “Can I have my dessert?”

Sam groans at that, Dean going to his knees and making quick work of Sam’s belt and jeans. He eyes the bulge in Sam’s boxers with hunger, licking his lips as he pulls them down.

Dean starts with little kitten licks at the head of Sam’s cock, meeting his eyes with a teasing smile. Sam grips his fingers in the short soft spikes of Dean’s hair.

“I thought you said you wanted your dessert,” Sam says, pulling Dean away from his dick.

“I do,” Dean pants, a whine catching in his throat as he tests the strength of Sam’s grip in his hair. “I want it.”

When Sam releases his grip, Dean lunges forward and slurps him down in one smooth motion. Sam moans at the hot clutch of Dean’s mouth around him, stroking his hair.

“So pretty when you’re stuffed full of something,” Sam says. “Should keep you— _ah_ —filled up twenty-four-seven.”

Dean moans in agreement, the vibrations working their way down his shaft. Sam swipes his fingers through the puddle of melted ice cream again.

“You’d like that, huh?” Sam fucks into Dean’s mouth, tracing around his lips with the ice cream-coated fingers. “Just plug you up all full of my come— _mm_ —and keep you fed and fat and happy.” He taps Dean’s lower lip with his fingers, leaving it sticky-shiny. “Open up.”

Dean complies obediently, letting Sam press his fingers in alongside his dick. Sam explores Dean’s mouth with his fingers, stroking at the inside of his cheek. Blissful, Dean’s eyes flutter shut.

“You ready for me to fill you up?” Sam pants, fucking his fingers in and out of Dean’s mouth along with his dick.

Dean moans a response around Sam’s dick and fingers, working them enthusiastically. Sam’s dick bumps against the back of Dean’s throat and he gags a little, saliva pooling at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m gonna—” Sam chokes out, fucking into the tightness of Dean’s throat. “Gonna fill you up so good with my come.”

Sam comes hot and sticky down his throat. Dean swallows it all down, stroking Sam’s softening dick with his tongue. Sam hisses at the overstimulation and pulls out of Dean’s mouth. His lips look red and used, mouth swollen and sticky.

Sam ducks down to capture Dean’s mouth in a kiss, tasting himself and the sweetness of apple pie and ice cream on his lips.

“D’you want your dessert?” Dean mumbles against Sam’s mouth.

Sam grins, nipping at Dean’s lips.

“Get undressed.”

Sam takes his place on the bed, crossing his arms behind his head. Dean makes quick work of his clothes, undressing quickly.

“What, no show?” Sam teases as Dean straddles his waist.

“Shut up,” Dean says. “How do you want me?”

Sam grabs Dean by the hips, pulling him up towards his chest. He marvels at the soft give of Dean’s flesh, gripping at his ass.

“Ride my face,” he says. “Wanna eat you out.”

A pink flush spreads over Dean face, working it’s way down his chest in a V. His amulet bounces against his chest as he holds on to the headboard, lowering himself down over Sam’s face.

If watching Dean eat is sin, then _this_ is Sam’s salvation.

Dean gives a moan at the first touch of Sam’s tongue to his hole, quickly bringing down a hand to grasp at Sam’s hair.

“Sammy,” he pants, rocking down his hips for more.

Sam echoes Dean’s moan, licking wetly at Dean’s tightly furled opening. He grabs on to Dean’s hips, holding them still.

“Sam,” Dean keens. His dick is resting against Sam’s face, hard and leaking. “Please!”

Sam makes a point with his tongue and works it into Dean’s ass, releasing his hips. Dean’s thighs are quivering around his head and he grips at Sam’s hair while he works himself down on to his tongue.

“G-God,” Dean sighs, starting to get into the rhythm of it. “You’re so good at that— _Sammy_ —”

Sam pushes his tongue in further and curls it, stroking against Dean’s walls.

“Oh!” Dean’s hips stutter, his hand flexing in Sam’s hair. “Sam— _Sammy_ —”

Dean comes on Sam’s face with a shout, riding his tongue through the aftershocks.

“Christ, Sammy,” Dean says, lowering himself to sit on Sam’s chest. “You’re a mess.”

Sam looks up at Dean, jizz matting his eyelashes. He licks his lips, savoring the musky taste of Dean on his tongue.

“You gonna clean me up?”

Dean leans down, licking his come from Sam’s face. His tongue works in hot wet swipes across Sam’s skin, ending at his lips. Sam opens his mouth. Dean kisses him, feeding Sam his come. Their fevered kisses slow down until they’re just softly mouthing at each other.

“You still hungry?” Sam asks.

Dean swipes an errant streak of come from Sam’s cheek with his thumb and sucks it into his mouth.

“I could go for some pie,” he admits.

 


End file.
